


Faithful

by WaitingForMy



Series: Faith [1]
Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: Angst, Coma, Hospitalization, Infidelity, M/M, Semi-Human AU, Smut courtesy of Lazulia, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-05-01 20:17:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19184842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaitingForMy/pseuds/WaitingForMy
Summary: Pouncival and Tumblebrutus thought their relationship was bulletproof, but after an accident, one of them struggles to remain faithful.





	1. In the Hospital

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote and posted this story on FanFiction.net three years ago, but I re-edited it for posting here. Notably, I changed the spelling of my OCs names to better reflect the way I pronounce them and moved a couple paragraphs around, but the story is still the same. This is an angsty boi, so proceed with caution!

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Pouncival shifted uncomfortably. A deep ache like a weight had settled on top of him. His body begged for sleep, and his groggy mind simply wished that annoying sound would stop.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

An alarm? That didn’t sound like his alarm, or Tumblebrutus’. What day was it? Had they gone to a friend’s house and fallen asleep?

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

He opened his eyes slightly, then clenched them shut again when they were flooded with stark white light. He groaned.

“Pouncival? Are you awake?” asked an unfamiliar voice. That was jarring enough for him to force his eyes open. A silver tabby queen in green scrubs loomed over him. “Hey, stay with me, okay?”

One by one, his senses came into focus. He was laying in an uncomfortable bed covered in papery white sheets. The annoying beeping was coming from a heart monitor. He rolled his head to the left, and he saw the IV drip attached to his arm by a long, thin tube. Clearly, he was in the hospital. Unnervingly, he didn’t remember why or how he got there.

“We have you on morphine for the pain,” the silver queen responded to his confused expression. “I’m going to let your doctor know you’ve woken up.

Pouncival nodded drowsily as the nurse left the room. Sleep still clogged his experience of the world around him. Though his memory was quite foggy when he tried to picture the events that had evidently led to his hospitalization, a few blurry images gave him an idea. He had been in a car accident, hadn’t he? It had happened so quickly, and it had been so loud…

There was a knock on the door, and a mature-looking, Calico queen entered holding a chart. “Hi, Pouncival. How are you feeling?”

“I guess alright, considering.”

“Good. That’s good. I’m your doctor, Dr. Malcowren. Most people just call me Dr. Mal. I’m sorry I wasn’t here as soon as you woke up. I had to take care of another patient…” She set his chart down on the counter in the corner. “I’d like to do a quick examination before I bring your family in. Is that okay?”

Pouncival nodded.

“You sure are tough as nails, you know?” Dr. Mal said as she helped Pouncival to sit up, then pressed the end of her stethoscope over his heart. “The EMTs said they didn’t expect any survivors out of that crash, and here you are without a single broken bone. Someone up in Heaviside is looking out for you.” She moved the stethoscope to his back. “Take a deep breath for me. Does that hurt?”

“Just a little sore.” Pouncival admitted.

“I’d be shocked if you weren’t.” She put the stethoscope back over her neck, pulled a small flashlight out of her coat pocket, and shined it in his eyes. “You seem to be recovering from your concussion quite like I would expect. Can you follow the light with your eyes? Good.” She put the light away and took Pouncival’s paws in her own. “Squeeze for me?”

He did his best, but shit, his arms somehow managed to feel achey and numb at the same time.

“Okay. Also not bad, considering.” She let go of Pouncival’s paws and wandered towards the foot of the bed, where she proceeded to run a claw up the middle of Pouncival’s right foot.

He instinctively jerked, and immediately regretted it. He winced and grunted in pain, and she offered a sympathetic smile.

“Believe it or not, that’s good. That’s great. I’m very happy.” She repeated the action on his left foot, earning a much milder reaction without the element of surprise. She then sashayed to the corner of the room, picked his chart up off the counter there, and jotted down a few notes. “Now, I know your family wants to see you. Would you like me to let them in?”

“Please.”

“Okay. Get some rest. I’ll be back in a bit to check on you.”

“Wait, before you go…” Pouncival cleared his throat. “With my family, was there another tom…um, my age, also brown and white, but, like, darker brown?”

The doctor pressed her lips together into a thin line and furrowed her brows, apparently thinking. “No, I’m afraid not,” she said.

Pouncival sighed. He knew it was probably silly to be upset, but Tumblebrutus was really the only one he wanted to see. Surely, his family hadn’t neglected to tell him that Pouncival was in the hospital.

Shortly after Dr. Mal left, Jellylorum and Plato came practically crashing through the door. They looked a little worse for wear and more than a little relieved to see Pouncival awake.

“Oh, my poor baby,” Jellylorum cooed. “How are you feeling?” She sat in the chair next to the bed and began running her paw gently over her injured son’s head. She had obviously been crying—her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks were red. It hurt Pouncival far more than he expected, to see that. He was only a kitten when his father, her mate, died in a car accident. She never fell in love with another tom, after that. Pouncival felt so guilty. He couldn’t remember if he had caused the accident or not, but either way, he had been driving, hadn’t he? He could have stopped it. His mother didn’t have to be scared.

“I’m feeling pretty stoned,” Pouncival replied, gesturing towards his morphine drip. Plato laughed at his remark, coming to stand by their mother.

Pouncival dared to ask if they knew what happened. His mother and brother looked at each other with grim expressions, then Jellylorum took a shaky breath. “You were hit by a drunk driver, sweetie,” she explained. “You were conscious, when the paramedics arrived, but they said you were pretty delirious. I’m sure they don’t expect you to remember anything. Apparently, you passed out in the ambulance on your way here. Everlasting cat, we were so worried about you.”

By the end of the albeit short story, she had choked up. She took her son’s face in her paws and kissed him on the forehead.

“How long was I out?” Pouncival asked.

“About six hours,” his brother replied.

Pouncival’s eyes grew wide. “Six _hours!?_ ”

Jellylorum quickly tried to calm him down. “You hit your head really hard, sweetie. The doctors think it’s incredible that you’re doing as well as you are.”

He winced. “Was it bad?”

Both Jellylorum’s and Plato’s eyes fell to the floor. “It was pretty bad, kid,” Plato said quietly.

Pouncival got the feeling they were keeping something from him, which unsettled him to his core, but he didn’t have the energy to push them. He was aching to ask if Tumblebrutus had come by, but he was too afraid of being told “no.” Besides, he tried to leave his mom out of his relationship. She hadn’t been exactly thrilled to find out that both her sons had a thing for other toms, even if Plato went for queens, too. Pouncival tried not to take it personally. He knew she just desperately wanted grandkits and was afraid she wouldn’t get them, and she put in an honest effort to be supportive, but he could tell she was disappointed. Their little family been through so much. The pain of knowing he was just the next tragedy in his mother’s life hurt Pouncival more than his injuries.

“I’m so sorry,” Pouncival whimpered. “I should have been more careful. I—”

“Now, you just stop that!” Jellylorum snapped. “You were not at fault. There was nothing you could have done.”

Pouncival leaned back on the bed. At that point, he could barely keep his eyes open. “M’ tired.”

“Pouncival? Hey…”

As his mind began to drift, he heard a small commotion as his family went to fetch his doctor. The last thing he heard was Dr. Mal telling his mother, “It’s normal for him to be tired. His body is working hard on healing.” His final thoughts before falling asleep were of his noticeably absent tomfriend. He figured Tumblebrutus would surely be there when he woke up.

* * *

 

Pouncival woke again to the same jarring _beep, beep, beep_ as before. The morning light was beginning to filter through the window behind his head, the blinds casting stripes of warm light across the ceiling. Looking to his right, he saw his brother slumped over in a chair, asleep. He heard his mother’s tired, hushed voice speaking with another outside the open door to his room. He shifted in his bed. His body felt about like one would expect, hours after a horrific car accident.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Pouncival whispered, trying to get Plato’s attention, “What time is it?”

“W’ I don’ fuckin’ know, I jus’ woke up,” Plato slurred. When he came to his senses a bit more he asked, “How you feeling?”

“How do you think I’m feeling? Like shit. Who’s Mom talking to?”

“Uncle A.”

 _Was Tumble here?_ The words tingled on the tip of Pouncival’s tongue. He was screaming them, in his mind. _Was Tumble here? Where’s my tomfriend? Why haven’t I heard from him?_ He took in a breath to finally ask, before his mother and uncle stepped into the room, startling him, and the words fell away.

Asparagus stepped up to Pouncival’s bedside and cast a sad smile down at his nephew. “Hey, kid. Are you feeling alright?”

“I guess, considering.”

“Good. You gave us quite a scare.”

Once again, Pouncival got the distinct feeling that everyone was hiding something from him. That, plus Tumblebrutus’ lack of presence, was starting to give him a sick sense of dread.

“Your mom said you don’t remember much,” Asparagus went on to say.

Pouncival shook his head as well as he could without feeling like it was being bashed in with sledgehammer. “No,” he said, “I don’t remember hardly anything.”

“Maybe it will come back to you.”

“Maybe.”

He wished it would. Losing waking hours of his life unsettled him to no end. Everlasting only knew what he might have done during that time. He remembered there was a car wreck, but he didn’t know how he remembered. Everything was just…fuzzy.

* * *

 

About an hour later is when friends and neighbors began to visit. Munkustrap, Cassandra, Demeter, Tugger. Every face that walked through the door that wasn’t Tumblebrutus’ left Pouncival more confused and upset. Victoria, Bombalurina, Etcetera, Mistoffelees. The day crept by with no sign nor mention of the only cat Pouncival really wanted to see.

The sun had set, and Pouncival was beginning to doze off again. Then, his ears perked up at the sound of Jennyanydots’ voice, quietly chatting to Jellylorum in the hallway. He tried to make out what they were saying, but they were practically whispering. He frowned. They both looked and sounded upset, and Jennyanydots seemed to be alone. But she was Tumblebrutus’ mother. If she was there, surely he couldn’t be far behind?

Jennyanydots and Jellylorum exchanged a hug, then Jennyanydots walked away with her eyes cast to the floor. Jellylorum turned, so Pouncival could see the stony expression on her face as she returned to his room.

“Where’s Tumblebrutus?” The words fell out of his mouth.

Jellylorum’s head snapped up. “What?”

All the frustration Pouncival had been feeling came crashing down. “Where is Tumblebrutus!?” he cried. “Why hasn’t he been here? Everyone else has.”

Jellylorum began to reply gently, “Pouncival—”

“I don’t want to be calmed down, Mom! I want to know where the hell my—”

“ _Pouncival_ , when you were in the accident, you weren’t alone in the car.”


	2. Stay Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pouncival remembers how he ended up in the hospital.

Pouncival looked himself over in the rearview mirror. Even after all this time, he didn’t want to have a hair out of place, when Tumblebrutus saw him. He had sent a very unceremonious “Here” text and was now waiting in the parking lot for his tomfriend to get off work. He was fresh off work himself and more than ready to get back to the apartment he shared with Tumblebrutus.

“OMW” was the reply he received, and Tumblebrutus emerged from the building, moments later. He hopped in the passenger’s side of Pouncival’s nondescript, black sedan and wasted no time in leaning across the center console to kiss him. “Hey.”

“Hey, how was work?” Pouncival asked, putting on his seatbelt.

Tumblebrutus scoffed. “Shitty.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “Same shit as always. You ready to go?”

Pouncival flashed him a playful smile. “You ready to put on your seatbelt?”

“We live just down the street,” Tumblebrutus reminded him.

Pouncival took his paws off the steering wheel and folded them in his lap. “I’m not going anywhere until you put on your seatbelt,” he taunted.

Tumblebrutus rolled his eyes and reluctantly strapped himself in. “Okay, _Mom_.”

“I do it, because I love you.” Pouncival took Tumblebrutus’ paw and gave it a kiss before placing both his paws at ten and two to maneuver them out of the parking lot. Once on the road, he took his tomfriend’s paw back in his own.

Tumblebrutus turned on the radio as they rolled up to a stoplight. He made a face at the synthetic sound that filled the car. “Why is all music shit, these days?”

“I don’t think it’s so bad,” Pouncival replied timidly.

The light turned green, Pouncival smoothly pressed the accelerator, and the car moved into the intersection.

“Yeah, well, I guess it— Oh, _shit, Pounce—_ ”

Pouncival didn’t know what hit them. The world went blurry, and he felt his seatbelt snap tightly against his chest and stomach, but the _sound_ is what startled him first. It sounded like a meteor had fallen from space and onto the roof of the sedan.

Next, they were spinning. Spinning, spinning, and then?

Then, suddenly, everything was still.

The airbags did not deploy.

The pain set in. Pouncival felt a dull burn spread throughout his body, punctuated by a sharp pain in his neck. His left paw was still at ten o’clock on the steering wheel, and his right was still clutching Tumblebrutus’ now limp paw with all its might.

First, Pouncival looked down. He saw shards of glass in his lap. There were cuts on his arms. Sticky blood leaked from his wounds, but he could barely feel it. He felt cold. Cold and hot, at the same time. Cold and hot.

Next, Pouncival looked at Tumblebrutus. The pain in his neck was severe, and he winced. It took a moment for his eyes to refocus.

He barely registered the hoarse scream coming from his own mouth.

His tomfriend…oh, his poor tomfriend, slumped forward in his seat like a ragdoll. His head was smashed and oozing blood from where it had hit the window, and he was covered in cuts from the broken glass. Red bubbled from his nose and mouth with every breath he took.

Pouncival sobbed, screaming between gasps of air from pain, from fear, or from sadness, he couldn’t say. In fact, he couldn’t say anything. He simply did what his traumatized mind compelled him to do and attempted to get out of the car.

Pouncival ripped his seatbelt off and managed to open the car door. Unable to stand, he collapsed onto the pavement.

“Don’t move!” he heard a voice cry. A tom and a queen ran up to the scene and knelt down beside him. “Don’t move, sweetheart,” the queen said, suppressing panic. “You could hurt yourself.” She tried to ease him into a more reasonable position as the tom looked in the car. “Oh, Everlasting Cat, _fuck,_ ” Pouncival could hear the tom say.

Tears kept falling from Pouncival’s eyes, as reality began to set in, or perhaps slip further away. The queen tried to keep him calm, while she stabilized his head and neck.

 

The next thing he remembered, he was shifting uncomfortably, his body begging for sleep, his groggy mind simply wishing that annoying sound would stop.

* * *

 

The memory slapped Pouncival in the face. He understood why nobody told him, but that didn’t make him any less angry.

“Just tell me,” he snapped.

“Tell you what?” Jellylorum asked timidly.

Her son glared daggers at her, and she relented. “He hasn’t woken up, yet, Pouncie.”

“Is he going to?”

Jellylorum gently caressed her son’s face in an attempt to comfort him, as she told him, “We don’t know, Pouncie. I’m so sorry.”

The crushing stakes of the situation rolled over Pouncival like a tidal wave. Fear gripped his chest, and all the air he could take in didn’t feel like enough. Tumblebrutus, his beautiful tomfriend, was lying on death’s door…

Because some cat decided to drink and drive?

Or because Pouncival didn’t get through that intersection fast enough?

“I want to see him,” Pouncival hissed, as a nurse, a young tom called Reagan, walked in to check on him.

Reagan didn’t hesitate. Apparently, all the nurses and doctors knew of the situation. Everyone but Pouncival, it seemed. Reagan sighed heavily. “I’ll have to ask Dr. Mal, but I think you’re well enough for us to put you in a wheelchair.”

* * *

 

Jellylorum wheeled Pouncival to Tumblebrutus’ room. To be fair, Tumblebrutus looked a lot better than he did, the last time Pouncival saw him. That didn’t stop Pouncival’s heart from sinking, though. Tumblebrutus looked pathetic, like if somebody sneezed in his direction he would shatter like glass. His wounds, while no longer bleeding, were scabbed over, bruised, and lined with dark blue stitches. Both legs and his right arm were at least partially covered with casts, and bandages covered his head and nose.

Pouncival wanted to get out of that wheelchair and run to him, but he knew he couldn’t. He wanted to wrap his arms around his tomfriend and never let go of him, but he knew he couldn’t. More than anything, of course, he wanted Tumblebrutus to wake up, but he knew he couldn’t.

“Hi. You must be Pouncival.”

Pouncival had been so distracted by his tomfriend’s state that he hadn’t noticed the doctor.

Tumblebrutus’ doctor was younger than Malcowren, but he gave off an aura of calmness that made it clear he was just as trustworthy. He had gray-brown, tabby fur and deep brown eyes. In fact, for a moment, Pouncival was struck by how handsome his tomfriend’s young doctor was.

Sometimes, being gay could be inconvenient, like that.

“Yes,” Pouncival replied softly.

“I’m Dr. Filixtel,” the doctor said, extending his paw for Pouncival to shake.

Pouncival dazedly obliged, more out of habit than any conscious thought.

He looked back at Tumbebrutus. He always imagined that coma patients would look peaceful. This was nothing like that. Tumblebrutus looked like his body was fighting a moment-to-moment battle to stay alive.

While his mother and Dr. Filixtel had a quiet conversation over his head, Pouncival took hold of the wheels on his wheelchair and rolled himself over to Tumblebrutus’ bedside. Carefully, he took his tomfriend’s left paw in his—the same paw he had gripped so tightly the moment his life was almost ripped away. The contact with his loved one was both comforting and killing Pouncival.

He lifted Tumbebrutus’ paw to his face and kissed it. “Please, _please_ stay alive, Tumbles.”


	3. Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pouncival is lucky to have survived his ordeal, but he doesn't feel very lucky, and he doesn't want to be alone.

Week one.      

“Lucky.”

_Lucky._

If Pouncival had a dollar for every time he heard that word, he could buy a new car.

He was released from the hospital after a few days and went to stay with his mother. He hadn’t completely recovered, so she took care of him, and Plato came over to help as often as he could. Meanwhile, everyone kept telling him how _lucky_ he was to be alive and to have gotten out of the hospital so fast.

“You’re lucky you got out without any broken bones,” one cat told him.

“You’re lucky it was only a concussion,” said another.

One clueless nurse even commented, “You’re lucky they hit the passenger’s side.”

Well, Pouncival didn’t feel very lucky. He would have given anything for the drunk driver of the other car to have hit the driver’s side. “Why didn’t I go home another way?” he asked. “Why didn’t I hesitate at the stoplight? How did I not see them coming?”

His mother took his paw. “It was an accident, Pouncival. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Bullshit,” he snapped. “I was driving. I should have done something.” Tears sprung into his eyes. “I should be the one in the _fucking coma_.”

He ran to his old room and slammed the door, like a heartbroken child. He felt very much like a heartbroken child.

Of course, his old bedroom was not the best sanctuary from thinking about his tomfriend. They had been best friends, growing up. They used to stay up all night in that room, playing video games and talking about queens. Talking about queens, that is, until they came out to each other, at the same time, also in that room. They shared their first kiss in that room. They actually lost their virginity to each other in that room (but don’t tell Jellylorum).

Or, maybe, the room wasn’t the problem. Maybe Pouncival’s mind was consumed by Tumblebrutus, everywhere he went.

He quit his job. He couldn’t go back there. He couldn’t drive that route. He couldn’t drive in general. Just the thought of getting back behind the wheel sent Pouncival into a full-fledged panic attack.

Pouncival spent approximately two minutes lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Then, he burst back out of his room and announced, “I’m going back to the hospital.”

He was spending every possible waking moment at the hospital.

Jellylorum sighed, “Pouncie, you need to rest, and I can’t always be driving you back and forth.”

“I’ll call a cab.”

* * *

 

“You’re back.”

Pouncival looked towards the source of the voice.

If there was one good thing in this whole situation, it was the eye-candy that was Dr. Filixtel.

Pouncival hated himself for even thinking that.

But then he smiled, because he knew Tumblebrutus would be thinking it too, and they would have a good laugh about it.

That is, when Tumblebrutus woke up.

If Tumblebrutus woke up.

 _When Tumblebrutus wakes up,_ Pouncival screamed in his head. Preparing for the worst would drive him insane.

Aaand he was miserable, again.

Dr. Filixtel saw the entire struggle play out on Pouncival’s face, and he looked sympathetically at the young tom. “Don’t worry about him. We’re doing everything we possibly can to make sure he heals.”

“Easier said than done,” Pouncival said, his voice hoarse and barely a whisper.

“I know.” Dr. Filixtel put his paw on Pouncival’s shoulder, then walked around the foot of the bed and sat down on the opposite side of his patient.

“What would you do,” Pouncival asked, “if it was your, uh, queenfriend?”

“’Fraid I don’t swing that way.”

_Of course, you don’t._

“But if it was my tomfriend?” Dr. Filixtel sighed. “Pouncival, I’d be doing exactly what you are doing.”

The room fell deadly quiet, and Pouncival became hyper-aware of the roaring of the air conditioning and the rhythmic beating of the heart monitor.

The beeping wasn’t nearly as annoying, coming from Tumblebrutus’ monitor.

The tears had stopped falling, days ago. Pouncival had nothing more to give. His emotions didn’t show. Instead, they burned him alive from the inside.

Fear.

Anger.

Hatred.

Pouncival never imagined he could ever hate a dead cat as much as he hated the driver of the other car. Dead on impact. Killed instantly. Didn’t feel any pain. For Pouncival and Tumblebrutus, however, all that was left was pain.

Pouncival hoped that driver burned in hell for the rest of eternity.

“If you would rather be alone,” Dr. Filixtel began gently, “I can always—”

“No.” Pouncival took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be alone.”

* * *

 

“Jenny?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Did he… _does_ he… _like_ living with me?”

Jennyanydots smiled sweetly at her son’s tomfriend. She answered, “Yes.”

Pouncival sighed. Ever since the accident, Jennyanydots, who loved to talk and gossip and instruct and generally have sound coming out of her mouth at all times, had become a cat of few words.

He looked across the room at Tumblebrutus’ little sister, Electra. Since the accident, that playful little goofball had become angry. All the time, she was angry.

He looked at Skimbleshanks, who stood next to Jennyanydots. Since the accident, the tom who loved to travel and who couldn’t stay still rarely left his son’s hospital room.

And Pouncival, the tom who always smiled, hadn’t smiled in days.

Pouncival reached down and took Tumblebrutus limp paw. His cuts and bruises were healing. He was beginning to look like the beautiful tom with whom Pouncival fell in love.  It gave Pouncival hope, and the one thing Pouncival needed was hope.

* * *

 

Pouncival and Tumblebrutus were dorky kits. They were always getting themselves into trouble. No one ever knew what they were going to do next. The only thing anyone could predict was that they would be together. They did everything together, and they never wanted that to end.

Every moment Pouncival stayed away from the hospital felt wrong. He _needed_ to be with Tumblebrutus. When they were separate, he was not whole. After that first week, he did not leave. He went home to shower, and sometimes to eat non-hospital food, but then he would be back. He barely spoke to any of his friends. Hell, he barely even spoke to his family. He didn’t dare go back to his apartment. The hospital was his life. The doctors and nurses were his friends. He wasted his days sitting quietly next to his comatose tomfriend, and the days didn’t seem wasted to him.


	4. Faithful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pouncival has spent every day at the hospital for the last five...six...or was is seven weeks? When his birthday rolls around, he finally takes a break...doctor's orders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: It's is totally done! I published it on ff.net three years ago! I'll update it every five days on AO3!  
> *Two weeks since the last update*  
> Me: Oh lol
> 
> The lovely Lazulia, formerly known as Delphicoracle-Cat, wrote everything below the double line. Remember when I was young, innocent, and incapable of writing smut? I do. Those were the days.

How long had it been? Too long, clearly, since Pouncival was losing track. It was easy to lose track of time, in the hospital. Days and nights ran together. Weeks passed slowly. Or did they pass quickly?

Five weeks. No, no, that was just since Pouncival got out of the hospital.

Six weeks. Six weeks since the accident.

Or was it seven?

“Come on, Pouncival, let us take you to dinner,” Jennyanydots begged. “We can meet your mother and your brother somewhere. You deserve it.”

“Thank you, Jenny,” Pouncival replied. “Really, I appreciate it, but…” He trailed off, looking back at Tumblebrutus, who was still, after all this time, asleep.

Jennyanydots sighed heavily, looking hopelessly at her son. “Just let me know, if you change your mind. The doctor says he’s stable, so Skimble and I are going to spend the night at home with Electra. She needs it. Pouncival.”

“Hm?”

The queen laid a hand on the young tom’s shoulder. “Don’t feel like you have to stay, because we’re not here. Like, I said, he’s stable. Isn’t that right, doctor?”

Dr. Filixtel was just entering the room. “That’s right. We haven’t seen much of a change in his condition recently, but what little we have seen has been positive.”

Jennyanydots kissed Pouncival’s head. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Then, she kissed her comatose son on the forehead before exiting the room.

“It’s your birthday?” Dr. Filixtel asked Pouncival.

Pouncival flinched. He had been so busy staring at that spot on the speckled floor tile that looked mysteriously like a dick that he forgot that the doctor was in the room. “Yes,” he replied.

“Well, happy birthday! How old are you, kid?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Twenty-one?” Dr. Filixtel finished checking his patient’s IV drip and sat down in the chair next to Pouncival. “Well, you can’t spend your twenty-first birthday sitting around a hospital.”

Pouncival smiled bitterly. “What else would I do? Go have my first drink by myself? That sounds fun.”

“Of course not,” Dr. Filixtel said, an element of resolve present in his voice. “My shift is over in five minutes. I’ll take you.”

Pouncival was taken aback. “What?”

“Come on, Pouncival. You’ve been here almost every day for eight weeks.”—Oh, so it had been eight weeks—“I feel like we can consider ourselves friends, at this point. You’re a good tom, and I hate to see you sitting around this hospital on your twenty-first birthday.”

“But—”

“No buts.” Dr. Filixtel stood up, offering Pouncival his paw. “Doctor’s orders.”

Pouncival didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t every day he had gorgeous toms telling him what to do. Well…not since the accident. He chuckled, in spite of himself.

Fine.

What did he have to lose?

* * *

“Wait, wait, wait. You’ve been a doctor for…”

“I’ve been licensed for three years.”

Pouncival snorted and burst into hysterical laughter.

Okay, so his alcohol tolerance was pretty low. He would realize that in the morning, when he stopped thinking the word “three” was just hilarious.

“Pouncival.” Filixtel reached over in an attempt to grab Pouncival’s hand that turned into a sloppy slap on the leg. “I think you’re drunk.”

“So are you.”

“I’m tipsy. Not drunk.”

Pouncival burst into laughter again. “What?” his new friend asked.

“Tipsy,” Pouncival repeated, laughing until no more sound came out. Suddenly, he caught his breath and grabbed Filixtel’s shoulder. “Has anyone ever told you,” he said, barely beginning to slur his words, “that you’re _really, fucking hot_.”

The two stared at each other in silence for several long seconds before they both burst into laughter.

“Oh, Everlasting.” Pouncival suddenly went silent, again. “I’m drunk. A drunk cat killed my tomfriend.”

Filixtel laughed some more. “Your tomfriend’s not dead, Perchival.”

Pouncival smiled. “That’s not my name.”

“Pouch…Pounci…what’s your name?”

“Susan.”

Another bout of laughter.

“Pouncival, do you— Do you want something else to drink?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Doctor?”

Filixtel smirked. “Maybe.”

* * *

* * *

Another drink turned into two, which turned into three, which turned into some number Pouncival couldn’t quite recall because counting had become an exotic skill in his current state. By that time, an equally-tipsy Filixtel decided to call it a night and then call a taxi, and with the two supporting each other they made it into the taxi.

Pouncival watched the city go by. His head was trying to clear itself, not nearly enough for him to be considered sober, but enough for the heat of guilt to start prickling at his mind again. Before he could give the thoughts any form, Filixtel’s voice intruded on his mind as his paw intruded on Pouncival’s thigh.

“Hey… hey Susan,” Filixtel said. He still had a slight slur to his speech. “You’re not passed out, are you?”

“No,” Pouncival mumbled. The paw on his thigh had his attention now. He smiled despite himself, despite his drunken state. This was nice. He missed this. He missed nice things. He missed…

A second later and he was cuddled up to Filixtel, his head on the doctor’s shoulder, his paws awkwardly grasping his chest. He purred and snuggled closer as Filixtel, his body rigid for a moment, relaxed and placed his own paws around Pouncival’s body.

“Do you… want the taxi to drop you off at your place first, or…” Filixtel asked with hesitation.

Pouncival shook his head. “Don’t want to go back home. Your place.”

Pouncival couldn’t have said who started it. Only that, by the time they’d thrown some manner of currency at the taxi driver and stumbled inside Filixtel’s home, they were wrapped around each other, kissing heatedly. The effects of the alcohol made it a sloppy affair, with teeth clinking and tongues dueling messily, but it felt good, and it was enough to clear Pouncival’s mind of whatever had been fighting for attention back in the taxi. Filixtel was nice. This felt good, so it had to be a good idea.

“Pounce…. Pouncival, maybe we should…” Filixtel began to speak, but his words dissolved into a moan as Pouncival groped at his crotch and found him hardening already.

 _We definitely should_ … Pouncival thought, and a moment later his lips were on Filixtel’s, and his paws were in Filixtel’s fur, and his hips were moving of their own accord as he ground his erection against the doctor’s hip. _We definitely should…_

For a moment he couldn’t seem to remember if they were standing or lying down, and he got his answer as his thrusts got a little too insistent and he managed to knock Filixtel off-balance. They tumbled to the floor and narrowly avoided hitting the doctor’s coffee table.

Pouncival rolled onto his back, giggling.

“Are you okay?” Filixtel asked, crawling on top of him.

“You’re a doctor, you can fix me.”

Soon he was as drunk on laughter as he was on booze and it seemed like a terrific idea to pull Filixtel on top of him, spread his thighs, and open his mouth for another kiss, clinging to the one good feeling he’d had in months, even though through the haze of lust and alcohol he wasn’t quite sure why he’d been feeling so sad in the first place.

“Can I…?” Filixtel’s voice was soft against his ear, and his erection was hard as it pressed against Pouncival’s entrance.

Pouncival moaned, moved his hips to give the other tom better access, and nodded his assent before they kissed again, slower this time, struggling for breath as Filixtel slowly penetrated him. It burned but it burned so good, pleasure chasing pain until he felt whole, wrapped in Filixtel’s arms with hot, heaving breath against his cheek, until each thrust and the paw stroking his erection brought him closer and closer to the sweet release he’d been craving for ages. When he came with a warm rush of pleasure, he made a choked cry and held on even tighter to the warm body on top of him.

Filixtel suddenly shuddered against him, spreading sticky heat inside him with a breathy, “Oh, Pouncival…” before relaxing on top of him.

His body was happy, his fur was messy, and his mind was foggy, and as Pouncival’s eyes fluttered shut in satisfaction, he smiled and purred against Filixtel’s neck.

And the words _we definitely should stop_ blurred on the edge of his mind before he fell asleep.


	5. To Prolong the Inevitable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pouncival hears Tumblebrutus' voice again, but not how he wanted.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Pouncival was confused, to say the least. He didn’t know where he was or what was happening, but that voice…he knew that voice. He knew…

“Tumbles?”

The world came into focus. He was in the kitchen in his apartment, and standing in front of him was his tomfriend. His beautiful tomfriend! But how?

Pouncival tried to run to Tumblebrutus, but no matter how he ran, he couldn’t get any closer. He cried out in frustration. “What is this?”

Tumblebrutus looked disgusted. “You’re an idiot,” he snarled. I’m dying in the hospital—”

“You’re not—”

“—and you decided to fuck my doctor. Awesome, Pouncival. That’s just great.”

Pouncival shook his head. He had no clue what to say. “I—I’m sorry.”

Then, Tumblebrutus lashed out. “You’re damn right, you’re sorry! You’re a sorry excuse for a tomfriend, Pouncival. Oh, I swear to the Everlasting Cat.”

Pouncival was trying once more in vain to reach Tumblebrutus. “Please,” he begged. “Just let me…”

“Touch me?” Tumbebrutus scoffed. “You could, if you’d go to the hospital.”

“But—”

“How long has it been? A week? Two?”

“ _But—_ ”

“Oh, that’s right!” Tumblebrutus laughed. “You can’t go back, because that would be awkward, wouldn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Pouncival cried. “I swear, I was drunk!”

“That’s just it, though! You were drunk! You went out and got so drunk off your ass that you went ahead and slept with your comatose tomfriend’s doctor. Real class act, Pouncie. It’s like you’ve learned nothing.”

“What?”

“ _A drunk cat killed me, Pouncival._ ”

“That’s not true! You’re not dead! You’re not going to die!”

“Wake up, Pouncival.”

* * *

 

Pouncival gasped, sitting straight up in bed. It was the middle of the night, and he was in his room at his mother’s house, bathed in a cold sweat. He took a few deep breaths. It was only a dream. It was only—

His cell phone rang on his bedside table.

He saw the clock, first. It was a quarter to two in the morning.

Then, his eyes adjusted to the bright screen of his cell phone. Jennyanydots was calling him.

* * *

 

Pouncival hadn’t driven a car in ten weeks. The last thing he wanted to do was get behind a steering wheel, but there wasn’t enough time to call a cab, especially not at two in the morning. Luckily, adrenaline is a powerful drug, and after weeks of constantly riding back and forth, he knew the way to the hospital better than he knew his own home. Still as he drove, the road seemed to stretch longer and longer.

It took him twenty-two minutes to reach the hospital and another one to reach Tumblebrutus’ room. He was stopped outside the door when Jennyanydots caught him in her arms and pulled him into a hug. “It’s okay,” she said. “He’s stabilized, for now.”

“For now?” Pouncival whispered. He glanced around, just trying to make sense of the situation. “Where’s Skimble?”

“He’s gone to get Electra.”

“Why?”

“Just in case.”

“This isn’t happening.”

Pouncival slumped down onto the floor, back against the wall. He stared at the speckled floor tile in front of him, but he didn’t see it. He couldn’t see anything except a fading vision of the last time he saw his tomfriend awake.

They were at that damn stoplight, and Pouncival glanced over, just for a second. No reason. Tumbebrutus was leaning back against the passenger’s seat, tapping out the rhythm of the song on the radio on the car door. It was just a simple moment. Pouncival wouldn’t have thought anything about it. He would have just forgotten about it and gone on with his life. He and Tumblebrutus would have gotten home, watched something on TV. Tumblebrutus would have been around for Pouncival’s birthday. Maybe Pouncival would have slept with him instead of his doctor. Who knows? The possibilities were endless.

Except they weren’t, because, moments later, the light turned green, and Tumblebrutus asked, “Why is all music shit, these days?”

“I don’t think it’s so bad.”

“Yeah, well, I guess it— Oh, _shit, Pounce—_ ”

Pouncival shuddered. Tumblebrutus had seen that car coming. He wondered what he must have thought. Did he know what was about to happen? Was he scared?

Pouncival was snapped out of his reverie when the door to his tomfriend’s room opened, and out walked the last cat he wanted to see, at the moment.

“May I see him, Doctor?” Jennyanydots asked, blissfully unaware of the suffocating tension that just cropped up in the hallway.

“Yes, of course,” Filixtel said softly.

Jennyanydots rushed in to see her son, leaving the two toms alone in the hallway.

“Pouncival—” Filixtel began.

“Just tell me what’s going on and…leave it at that,” Pouncival mumbled, reluctantly pulling himself off the floor.

The doctor took breath, as Pouncival actively avoided meeting his eyes. “His body is shutting down.”

Pouncival closed his eyes, momentarily unable to breathe. When he opened his eyes again, the doctor had gone, and he was alone.

He came to the conclusion that being alone really sucked.

Every step it took to get into the room felt like he was walking on hot coals, but he had to see his tomfriend.

When Pouncival saw Tumblebrutus in the hospital for the first time, it had been a jarring experience. This time was just as much, but in a different way. The first time, Tumblebrutus had been barely recognizable through his injuries. This time, he looked just like himself, but it wasn’t _him_. It was his body, hooked up to an IV, a heart monitor, and a ventilator. It felt more like a dream to Pouncival than his dream had. It was like Tumblebrutus was there in his dream, but not in the hospital room.

Jennyanydots and Pouncival looked at each other, both completely empty. Moment later, Skimbleshanks and Electra darted into the room.

It was a long night at the hospital, just waiting for something to happen. Jennyanydots and Skimbleshanks stepped out of the room for a bit. Pouncival could hear them crying. For a while, Pouncival laid his head down next to Tumblebrutus and dozed off.

Eventually, morning came, and Dr. Filixtel returned. “Have you made a decision?” he asked Jennyanydots and Skimbleshanks.

Gripping his mate’s paw tightly, Skimbleshanks answered, “We…don’t want to prolong the inevitable. It is inevitable, right?”

The doctor sighed. “I’m afraid so.”

Pouncival couldn’t believe was he was hearing. He wanted to protest, but he couldn’t remember how to make words.

Filixtel cast a quick, awkward glance at Pouncival. “I’ll give you time to say goodbye.”


	6. Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to say goodbye.

Electra was the first to say her goodbyes. She took about ten minutes, then exited the room, where she was enveloped in the arms of her parents.

Jennyanydots looked up at Pouncival.

“How long do I have?” he asked.

“As long as you need, sweetie.”

Pouncival nodded dazedly and entered the room. For a place that was illuminated by obnoxious bright lights, it was so, so dark. A few weeks earlier, Pouncival had been in a hospital bed just like that one, under lights just like those—the difference being, of course, that Pouncival was up and walking, and Tumblebrutus would never so much as open his eyes, again.

Pouncival sat down next to his tomfriend and ran his paw over the soft fur on his face for the last time. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I love you.”

The tears came unexpectedly. It wasn’t pretty crying, like you see in the movies. It wasn’t even angry or passionate. It was rough and it was bitter. Pouncival buried his face in the hospital bed and soaked the sheets. It was over. Somewhere deep inside, he knew it was coming, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. It hurt like hell, like nothing else Pouncival had ever felt before. It felt like everything inside of him had just been snatched away.

“Everlasting Cat, I will do anything— _anything_ …” he sobbed. “Please, take me instead.”

But soon, the tears stopped flowing. They weren’t doing any good, anyway. Instead, Pouncival laid his head on Tumblebrutus’ chest and listened to his heartbeat. It was still there. Still alive. How many times had Pouncival done that exact thing, laying his head on his tomfriend’s chest, taking for granted that that heartbeat would always be there?

Pouncival caught his breath and closed his eyes. He only had so long. He had to make it count.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he said. “You’re the most amazing cat I have ever known and will ever know. You’re so special. I can’t imagine what I’m going to do without you. I’m gonna miss you, so much.”

The tears started falling again, softer this time.

“You were always a ray of light for everyone around you. You’re my entire world, and— and… You deserved better than me. You always did. I would do anything to fix this.”

Pouncival took Tumblebrutus’ paw and laid like that for some time, with his head on Tumblebrutus’ chest and Tumblebrutus’ paw clutched tightly in his own. He was physically and emotionally exhausted. There wasn’t much he could do but try to appreciate what moments he had left with his best friend.

Eventually, he picked his head up. It had been an hour. He had nothing left to give.

He looked at his tomfriend’s sleeping face. The fact that he would never see those eyes open again…Pouncival tried not to think about that.

He wanted to kiss his lips so badly, but couldn’t, because of the mask Tumblebrutus was wearing to help him breathe. He had to settle for a simple kiss on the forehead.

He’d heard somewhere that coma patients were sometimes able to hear, so even though he knew it was a long shot, he whispered “I love you” in his ear one last time before he reluctantly left the room.

* * *

 

“Pouncival?”

Pouncival sighed nervously. He knew it was a dream, this time. He’d been here before. “You’re not real,” he said.

“So you can’t even look at me?”

Pouncival stood his ground, staring at the floor. It had been a month. Why now?

He heard pawsteps approaching from behind him, and then, to his great surprise, he felt a paw wrap around his wrist.

He couldn’t stand it, anymore. He turned and threw his arms around Tumblebrutus’ shoulders, real or not. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

Pouncival stepped back and took in this vision. The Tumblebrutus in his dream looked just like Tumblebrutus did in real life. He reached out and brushed his paw against his cheek. He was just as soft, just as beautiful, just as real. At least, that’s how it seemed. It seemed so real.

“I came to say goodbye,” Tumblebrutus said. “I can’t come back, after this.”

“You’re already gone. This is only a dream.”

“I think we both know that’s not entirely true.”

Tumblebrutus placed his paws on either side of Pouncival’s cheeks and gave him a kiss on his forehead. “I looked at you, you know,” he continued, “right before the car hit. The last thing I saw was you, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I love you.”

A single tear rolled down Pouncival’s cheek. “I love you, too.”

“I wanted to spend my entire life with you. I got my wish.”

“What about mine?”

“You’ll find a better one. I’ll make sure of it.”

Pouncival pulled Tumblebrutus back into his arms, beyond thankful that he could touch him, this time.

“Bye, Pouncie,” Tumblebrutus said.

“No, no, don’t go! Please, don’t—”

“I have to. You’re going to wake up.”

Pouncival could feel himself slipping from the dream. He tried his hardest to hold on to his tomfriend for as long as he could, but all too quickly, the dream lifted.

* * *

 

Pouncival was in the bed they used to share. Alone. He looked to his left. That was where Tumblebrutus used to sleep. He grabbed his pillow and pulled it close to his chest, biting back tears. He couldn’t hold it in for long, though. He cried into his late tomfriend’s pillow. It all still felt so surreal, like a nightmare. In that case, it was the worst nightmare Pouncival ever had.

The pillow still smelled like Tumblebrutus. Pouncival breathed it in while he could, knowing the scent would soon fade, like the cat who left it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, lol.


End file.
